


Salt

by cake_and_kuyashii



Series: Konpeito [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst and Feels, Fade to Black, Forgiveness, Heartache, Hopeful Ending, M/M, McDonald's, Nostalgia, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation, Reunions, Short One Shot, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cake_and_kuyashii/pseuds/cake_and_kuyashii
Summary: Tatsuki laughed, high and clear, “And what would I have possibly said? Don’t fall in love? He’s been in love with that fool since he was young.” He paused for a moment, his expression and voice softening, gaze roaming up and down Daisuke’s face. “He never stood a chance.”A companion piece to Konpeito, set during Chapter 7.





	Salt

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I've captured their character and dynamic in a way that does them justice. If I've botched it, you can tell me, and I'll throw this one-shot back into the void. Thank you for reading.
> 
> If you need me, I'll be in the Takachida abyss with all these feelings. I'll also be on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cakeandkuyashii) & [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/cakeandkuyashii), so you can find me somewhere that isn't catching me on the KSSC Discord!
> 
> 07.26.19 - A tiny update/bump to coincide with Chapter 7 of Konpeito posting today, since it was originally released with Chapter 2. :)

The amusement on Tatsuki’s face was clear. He was smug, lips tugged up on one side, a distinctive glint in his eye. He leaned casually back against the door, hands still tucked behind his back, still wearing a long but lightweight black coat and a smartly wrapped thin red scarf in a sort of defiance against the summer fashion. It was night, and the light of Daisuke’s hotel room was dimmed, soft. An amber glow, casting warm shadows over the angles of his face. His hair was still long, longer than it had been last summer, styled in the same way but now the ends were lightly touching the tops of his shoulders. There was a very slight, earthy shimmer on his eyelids, and a subtle touch of a black wingtip around the corners of his eyes. He looked beautiful, Daisuke thought. Annoyingly beautiful. It made his chest feel tight, making it harder to breathe.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are being sought after for advice on love.” Tatsuki broke the silence with a soft chuckle, raising one eyebrow at the very thought.

Dai, sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, extended his hands out with open palms and shrugged, unable to suppress his own smile. “Sorry, Philosopher,” he said dryly, teasing, “We can’t all be as wise and insightful as you.”

Tatsuki laughed, high and clear, “And what would I have possibly said? Don’t fall in love? He’s been in love with that fool since he was young.” He paused for a moment, his expression and voice softening, gaze roaming up and down Daisuke’s face. “He never stood a chance.”

Dai flinched and couldn’t look Tatsuki in the eye anymore, glancing down instead to study the fabric of his jeans intently as he leaned back onto his hands. A tense silence stretched out between them, and Tatsuki felt miles away again, instead of several feet, just by the door. It was just like him, to say everything without saying, and Dai wasn’t sure if it made him more fond or annoyed. Right now, mostly, he just felt guilty.

Tatsuki cleared his throat so Dai would look up at him again, and stepped forward, closer to the edge of the bed, hands still clutching something hidden behind his back. “I brought us something. For old times’ sake.”

Dai could smell the unique aroma as he stepped closer, until his feet were planted squarely in front of Dai’s, knew immediately what it was before Tatsuki brought the small, brown paper bag out from behind his back, holding it firmly by the rolled up top. An indescribable sort of pain seized his heart so hard that for just a moment, Dai was almost sure it had stopped.  
  
“McDonald’s?” He said, looking up at Tatsuki with a mixture of surprise and a heady nostalgia. “Macchi…”

“Allow me to propose a toast.” Tatsuki sat down beside Dai, holding out the bag with two hands and unfurling the top slightly, just enough so he could dip one hand inside. Dai watched, bemused, as he withdrew two single french fries and placed the bag down onto the bed in the small space between them. He extended his hand, elegantly as always, for Dai to take one of the fries. Tatsuki’s eyelashes fluttered and Dai’s breath hitched in his throat as their fingers brushed.

Tatsuki held his fry up and indicated for Dai to do the same, bittersweet smile on his face. “To those two idiots. May they fare better than we did.”

They tapped their fries together and ate them in silence, but it was a softer silence this time, more comfortable, though the edges of it remained tainted, with years of memory bubbling to the surface for them both. Frustration, regret. Tenderness, heartache. Things left unspoken and things that were once yelled in anger, things said with secret, shared glances and things that were once whispered in the dark.

“Do they really remind you of us?” Dai ventured as he reached into the bag to see what else Tatsuki had brought along. Chicken nuggets. Two burgers, one teriyaki, one double cheese. He pulled out the box of chicken nuggets and took one before offering the open box to Tatsuki. Tatsuki took one and popped it into his mouth, chewing and considering carefully before answering.

“In a way.” He said finally, reaching for another nugget and, probably purposefully, making Dai wait again before he continued as he ate it, face a mask of contemplation. “One has always been captivated by the other. For now, at least, that appears to be mutual. They’re wrapped up in each other.” Their fingers tangled briefly in the greasy cardboard box as they both reached for another nugget, and this time a tiny shiver ran through Dai, up through his fingertips and down through his spine, accompanied by a fresh pang of guilt.

“They're young. Dumb. Passionate. Reckless.” Tatsuki listed, tapping the nugget against his finger as he went before popping it into his mouth. He cast Dai a small, sad smile as he finished it before continuing, slow, thoughtful, “From what you've told me and what I've gathered myself, Yuzuru has been refusing to accept or acknowledge his feelings, and Shoma has been pretending he doesn't have any at all, possibly for Yuzuru's sake. Shoma's been chasing him for so long, and he's always been just out of reach - to lose him after finally reaching him, it must be terrifying.” He looked away then, down into the bag again to pull out the burgers, hesitating for a moment before handing one to Dai, meeting his eyes again. “He'd probably do anything, even if it's not good or right for him, desperately, even if it hurts him, to avoid that.”  
  
Dai winced and looked apologetically back at Tatsuki. “I’m sorry I asked. But, I’m...sorry, too.”

Tatsuki let out a short, startled laugh, shaking his head and waving his free hand. “Don’t, Daisuke. I’m not. It’s been a long time. And it was certainly...inspirational, for me, for my work. So...really...I’m grateful.” There was a wistful affection in his smile that made Daisuke’s heart ache.

“Like they say...don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened?” Daisuke tried, earnestly, and Tatsuki burst into delighted peals of laughter.  
  
“Who’s they? God, I can’t believe you’re supposed to be the sage advice giver here, when that’s what you come up with, really Daisuke, they’re doomed with you guiding them, I’m glad I could intervene.” He chided, shoving Dai playfully. “Couldn’t you at least dole out some yojijukugo? Honestly.”

“Hey! I tried! I did my best. See, this is what happens when you’re not around.” Dai protested, knocking his shoulder against Tatsuki’s.

Tatsuki’s eyes narrowed and his smile turned tight, lips pursed. “Do you really want to get into that tonight, too? I thought we could have a nice time. Really, you’re impossible.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, let’s change the subject, yeah?” Dai held up his hands before placing them together, burger still clasped between his palms, bowing slightly in an exaggerated plea for forgiveness. Tatsuki rolled his eyes but his smile returned.

And they did, swapping stories of memories past and recent events in between bites of their food, falling easily back into something comfortable, familiar, like their paths had never diverged at all. When they’d finished, it was late - it had been late already, but now the clock was pushing twelve. Empty wrappers and boxes had been tidily placed back into the paper bag, now laying on the floor by the bed. They fell silent again, but it was calm, a silence acknowledging what neither wanted to say now - it’s late, you should go, I should go, nice to see you again.

Dai raised his arm, paused, hesitant at first, but cleared his throat and moved suddenly to drape it around Tatsuki’s shoulders, urging him closer. Tatsuki made a small surprised sound but didn’t resist, resting his head gently on Dai’s shoulder. His hands clasped together, fidgeted, before one reached to seek Daisuke’s. Daisuke gave it, willingly, but couldn’t stop a sharp intake of breath when their fingers intertwined.

Tatsuki hummed in approval and turned his face up so he could look at Dai. He smiled, but his eyes were weighed down with a sadness Dai recognized all too well. “This was nice. Thank you. It’s almost like closure, isn’t it? If such a thing is ever really possible.”  

Dai’s eyes scanned his face rapidly, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. “Does it have to be?”

Tatsuki snorted. “Who’s the philosopher now? Please, Dai, I…” His breaths were close, close enough Dai could hear the way they got just a tiny bit faster. “That’s a dangerous thought, isn’t it?”  
  
Dai didn’t reply, just released Tatsuki’s hand so he could place his fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and moving in close to answer him with a kiss. The gasp Tatsuki made against his mouth sounded like music to his ears. After all these years, he still tasted the same, and it made him feel weak, vulnerable, to realize just how much he had missed this. They were slow, at first, cautious, but quickly escalated, becoming eager, firm, impassioned. Dai’s hands moved to cup Tatsuki’s face, careful to keep his touch light, fighting the urge to cling to him like a man drowning.

But Tatsuki pulled away, placing a single finger against Dai’s lips. Dai opened his eyes and blinked, slowly, confused. Tatsuki, cheeks flushed and hair mussed, shook his head. “We can’t go back. I can’t. Go Back. You know we can’t.”  
  
Dai wet his lips and drank in the sight of him before responding, heart pounding in his chest. He fought to keep his voice steady as he murmured, “We could start again.”

Tatsuki laughed and leaned his forehead against Dai’s. “It’s comforting, somehow, to see you’re still a fool, Daisuke Takahashi.”

“Tatsuki…” Dai’s tone was nearly a whine, a whimper, and he knew Tatsuki would pick up on his desperation. He didn’t care, not now, and so he looked at him pleadingly, selfishly, and he begged. “ _Please_ .”

Tatsuki laughed again, softer this time, barely audible, and shook his head back and forth gently in disbelief, forehead still pressed against Dai’s. “Maybe I’m a fool as well,” he whispered, and they were kissing again, pulling at each other’s clothes and falling back onto the hotel bed, limbs tangling together. It was a little bit funny and a little bit painful, how well their bodies remembered each other, after all this time. None of the sighs or gasps were new, nor different, nothing was a surprise. Neither was the way Tatsuki called his name, a careful, deliberate emphasis on every syllable, rolling off his tongue as if he’d never stopped calling him like this. Dai revelled in every familiar sound, overwhelmed, still coping with the idea he’d never hear them again being delightfully shattered into pieces.

When Dai woke up the next morning, he was alone.

That wasn’t surprising either, not really. It wasn’t even surprising that it still hurt.

Folded nearly on the pillow beside him was Tatsuki’s red scarf. That hurt, too.

Dai reached out to pull it closer, dislodging the note that had been carefully tucked underneath between it and the pillow. He blinked and grabbed for it as well, a nervousness of a sort he hadn’t felt in a long time bringing a slight tremble to his fingers.

_Daisuke -_

_Thank you for last night, and all the other nights before._

_Please remember, “Every meeting must include a parting.” But - also - “Every encounter is a once-in-a-lifetime encounter.” When we meet again, there will be a quiz._

_I wish you continued success in your endeavors. It wouldn’t be terrible, if you visited sometime, when you have the time. Waseda is surrounded by several museums._

  _Je n’ai pas de regrets._

_Tatsuki_

There was a small sketch underneath, Dai figured it was meant to be him, this morning, fast asleep. He placed the note back down and bundled the scarf up to his face, and inhaling deeply, he wondered, idly, just how much a flight would be from Kansai to Tokyo.

 


End file.
